The Zombie Plagues: The Story Of Billy and Beth (13 page)

BOOK: The Zombie Plagues: The Story Of Billy and Beth
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The truck was totaled Billy saw.

The plastic grill-work was gone along with the bumper, and he could see now why Beth had jumped through the window when they stopped, instead of opening the door. The door was crushed shut. Along with that both of the front tires were rapidly going flat. Probably from running over the bumper, he thought, a bullet would have blown them out immediately. A huge puddle of oil was spreading from under the truck, and green anti-freeze dripped from what was left of the radiator.

Billy opened up the rear of the truck, and Delbert held out his arms as Billy piled the first three boxes on them, and then managed to take the remaining three himself. They trotted back to the showroom and Billy mentally wished he had thought to pull the truck out of sight. The wrecked Suburban, with steam still rising in the air from the hood area, would almost serve as a beacon if there were others behind them. There were, he knew, remembering the sound of a vehicle screaming by on the highway when they had been hiding on the dirt road.

He reached the relative safety of the showroom just behind Delbert, the glass door whooshed shut behind them as they entered and set down the boxes. Beth stood and slowly shook her head as he approached her. She and Peggy had been kneeling beside John on the floor. “He's gone, Billy,” she said.

He could see she was close to tears, and Peggy was more than close, she was openly weeping. Delbert walked over to John's body and covered it with a carpet runner he had taken from near the front door. The old man seemed close to tears himself, Billy realized. Billy said a quick mental prayer to God, before he spoke.

“Listen, I don't want to sound hard, or as if I don't care, but we can't fall apart now,” he struggled to keep his voice calm as he spoke. “Right now, unless we want to just give up and die, we need to get ourselves in gear. If it wasn't one of the patrol cars that blew by us while we were on that dirt road, and we also know it wasn't that red pickup... someone is still out there, and once they get their shit together they'll come back for us. I for one don't want to be here, and if we intend to be gone I need help. Crying isn't going to bring John back...”

“What do you need me to do, Billy?” Delbert asked.

Billy looked around the showroom. “We need another truck, Dell, and I don't see any here, which means we're going to have to go back outside to find one. Which means,” he looked at Beth and Peggy, “I need you both to keep watch in front. We're going out the back.” He walked over to a small plywood board to one side of the double doors, and began to search through the key-tags that hung from it. “Dell, take a quick look out front and tell me whether you see a light green Durango out there, a new one,” he continued to search through the keys as Delbert looked.

“Yeah, out next to the road,” he replied.

“How about a two-tone red and white one?”

“Nope, not out here anyhow.”

“Good,” Billy said, as he dropped the remaining keys in a heap by the board. He had kept two sets apparently there were two two-tone, red and white, Durango's out back somewhere. “Okay Dell, let’s go find it,” he said, as he turned and walked down a hallway in the direction of the back of the building, he turned back. “Beth?” he asked.

“Go, we'll be fine,” she told him.

He nodded, turned, and Delbert followed him down the hallway through a set of double steel doors and into a large garage area. Billy searched the garage quickly with his eyes, but no red and white, two-tone Durango's resided in the shadowy interior. They walked to a set of double steel doors set into the back of the garage, Billy pressed the bar handle, and they walked out into the back lot.

They found the first Durango directly behind the rear of the garage, Billy checked the stock numbers and after determining which set of keys went to it, he opened the door and got in. A low chiming greeted him as he opened the door. The Durango was one of the upper level models he saw, and it was also not four wheel drive. The tires were not much more than passenger tires, and when he turned on the ignition to check the gas gauge, the needle stopped just above empty.

“Let's see if we can find the other one,” Billy said, “this one isn't going to do us a hell-of-a-lot-of good, Dell.”

They found the other truck farther back in the lot. It was a low end model, built more with a hunter, or some other type of sportsman, in mind, and much better suited to their needs. Plain stark vinyl interior and the gas gauge leveled out at half when Billy checked it. Not great, he thought, but a lot better than the other truck, and he felt they didn't have the time to pick and choose.

“This is her, Dell,” Billy said, “let’s go.” Delbert climbed in as Billy started the truck and drove out of the back lot toward the front of the dealership.

Billy had been tensed, expecting to hear the chatter of machine pistols while they were out back, and when he drove by the glass encased showroom and saw Beth and Peggy crouched by the side of a car on the showroom floor, he breathed a sigh of relief. He just caught Beth's waving hands out of the corner of his eyes, before two men jumped out from behind one of the trucks in the front row and opened fire.

Too late, he thought, as he realized he had left the machine pistol lying on the front seat instead of keeping it in his right hand where it should have been. Delbert had held on to his though, and nearly kicked his side door open as he leaped from the truck and opened up on the two men. Billy could hear the sound of machine pistols behind him as well, as Beth and Peggy also opened up. He aimed the Durango at the two men, levered the door-handle and jumped from the truck, just as the windshield, hit by several of the rounds fired by the two men, was blown inward.

As the truck lumbered toward them, the two men opened up on it in an effort to stop it. Billy rolled, re-gained his feet, and opened up on the two men. They were both dead before the truck rolled over them, dragging one of the men with it, as it crossed the road and crashed into the ditch on the opposite side, a long red smear marked its trail across the road.

Billy turned to look back for Beth, but she was already stepping through the shattered front windows of the showroom and running toward him with Peggy close behind. He turned to look for Delbert. He had lost track of him after he had jumped from the truck. The old man was walking toward him, limping Billy saw, an alarming amount of blood seeping from one leg, staining that leg of his jeans nearly red. He became aware of a stinging sensation on the side of his cheek, and just as he raised his hand to touch his face, Beth raced up.

“Let me see,” she said, pushing his hand away from his face, “Damn, Billy, you got hit.”

He thought at first that it had been the flying glass from the windshield, but Beth quickly crushed that train of thought when she said. “Looks like one of the rounds that took out the windshield got you, Billy. It's gonna scar, but you'll live.” She sounded calm as she spoke, Billy was surprised when she suddenly burst into tears, and threw her arms around him as she spoke. “Billy, it could have killed you, j-just a-a l-l-little b-b-bit...” she broke down and couldn't continue. He held her as Delbert walked up.

He raised his eyebrows, and said, “Dell, you okay?”

“Took one in the leg, I think,” he replied.

Beth let go of Billy and tried to stop the tears as she turned to Delbert. Billy looked over Beth quickly with his eyes, and then moved on to Peggy, finally allowing his eyes to fall on Delbert's leg. Beth and Peggy appeared to have only a couple of minor cuts, probably caused by flying glass, Billy told his questioning mind. Delbert, however, was losing blood at an alarming rate. The entire right pant leg was shredded as well as being soaked with blood, and as Beth carefully pulled the material away from his leg to get a better look, Billy could see the torn flesh beneath. It doesn't look good, he thought. He had Delbert lean on him as they hurriedly headed back toward the showroom.

The one side, closest to the side lot, was untouched. They entered through the double doors, and Billy helped ease Delbert down onto the floor. He pulled out a small pocket knife, and quickly cut away the remainder of the pants leg.

The wound was bad, he could see, but thankfully it didn't look life threatening. With all the blood, he had been convinced he would find that one of the large arteries of the leg had been nicked, or even severed. That wasn't the case however, and the flow of blood was already beginning to slow. Beth folded the pant leg into a small square, and held it over the wound to further slow the bleeding. “Billy,” she said, “I need the first aid kit from the truck.”

“Going,” he said, as he trotted out the side doors and headed toward the wrecked Suburban. He kept his eyes searching as he went, but saw nothing, and the only sound was of the Durango, which was still running in the ditch across the road. He pulled the first aid kit from the back of the truck, and ran back into the showroom. He handed it to Peggy who was kneeling with Beth beside Delbert.

“Damn,” Delbert said, “makes a man wish he could get shot everyday so he could have two pretty women fussing over him,” a small smile appeared over the tight set of his teeth.

Billy smiled back, surprised that he could, but a glance over at the covered form of John's body quickly wiped away the smile. “I'm getting us another truck,” he stated, as he turned and walked over to the small pile of keys. And not from the back either, he told himself. He searched until he found the set of keys to the green Durango that Delbert had said was out in front, and then headed toward the front of the lot. He could still hear the other truck idling in the ditch, but all else was quiet and he saw no one at all.

This Durango was another stripped down model, with a bare interior, and aggressively tread tires. He thanked God mentally, got in, started it, and pulled over to the wrecked Suburban. Fifteen minutes later the contents of the Suburban were loaded into the rear of the Durango. The Durango was smaller, but he managed to make it all fit, and when he was finished he pulled the truck up next to the side doors, glancing at the gas gauge as he shut it off, which was resting between half and full, at three quarters of a tank. “Thank you God,” he said aloud, as he exited the truck and walked back into the showroom.

Delbert was sitting up, resting against the bumper of one of the cars in the showroom. “How are you feeling?” Billy asked, as he looked over the bandaged leg.

“Not bad, and I'm about to feel a lot better,” he said, raising a small pint of whiskey, “Beth found this in one of the managers drawers. I think it'll do the trick just fine.”

Billy smiled, “Damn, Dell, I had no intention of getting you shot, I'm sorry, Dell, truly I am.”

“What the hell are you apologizing for?” Delbert asked, his voice serious. “That ain't no way to lead, Billy. You did the best you could, we're all damn lucky to be alive, so don't go beating yourself over the head about it. You ain't got nothin' to apologize for, far as I'm concerned.”

“Billy, I need to see your face,” Beth said walking up, “now hold still, this is gonna hurt.” He gritted his teeth as she first cleaned and then poured peroxide directly over the wound. When she was done with that, she taped it up as best she could, and kissed him. “Don't leave me, Billy,” she said.

“Wouldn't, and couldn't,” he replied, “and don't want to either.” He turned to Delbert and helped him to his feet as the four of them walked to the Durango. None of them spoke of leaving John behind. They didn't like it, but they all realized they had no choice.

Billy turned the truck around and eased up onto the roadway. It was clear in both directions, and his eyes swept over the drying smear of blood in the road, that was now drawing flies, as he turned right and headed out of Owensboro.

By the time they were under way again, it was late afternoon. The road ahead was clear, and after several miles of checking the rear-view mirror and seeing nothing, Billy began to relax a small amount. The mood in the truck, however, was somber, and no one seemed to be able to strike up any conversation and keep it going for more than a minute or two, before it fizzled.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Billy and Beth

April 24
th

Two days of travel bought them to the Ohio river. They crossed into Indiana over the Ohio river at Hawesville, and by nightfall they had followed route 66 into the Hoosier national forest. T
he two women had somehow managed to overcome the mood, and were talking excitedly about stopping and being able to get out of the truck. Their mood helped to swing Billy's mood around, and Delbert, who had more than a mild buzz from the whiskey, was sleeping with his head in Peggy's lap.

Billy pulled the Durango into the park, and drove down next to a small stream and parked. Beth and Peggy began to search for wood to build a fire as Billy helped Delbert from the truck.

“How are you feeling, Dell?” Billy asked.

“No brain no pain,” Delbert responded, “but I expect I'll have a hangover tomorrow.”

“Well go ahead and have one,” Billy said, “long as that helps you get through the night,” he said pointing at the bottle. “But make sure it's a small one, Dell, because tomorrow I need you wide eyed and bushy tailed, there's no telling what's ahead.”

“Yeah, today was sure fun,” he said glumly.

Billy helped him sit down at an old green picnic table, before he went back to the truck and unloaded the camping gear.

They had picked up two additional tents, and he debated about whether to set up the third one. Peggy settled it when she walked over, by telling him not to bother. “I'd prefer to have Dell next to me,” she said slightly embarrassed, “well, in case he wakes up in the night, or his leg bothers him,” she finished.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that neither Billy nor Beth intended to make any objections.

Peggy had met Delbert back in Texas the day after the first earthquakes hit, almost at the same time she had met John. She and Delbert had just been drawn to each other, there was no other way to put it, and although their age difference was vast, it didn't bother either one of them. It had bothered John a great deal however. He had been of the opinion that since he had found her first, she belonged to him. It pissed her off, and the tension between them had been growing steadily.

She was sorry that John had died, and had at first even felt guilty about it, but she didn't now. It could have been any of them, she realized, it could have been Dell.

She was through making pretensions about how she felt too, she realized. She had been embarrassed, not only because she was afraid Beth and Billy would disapprove, that was only a small part. The big part was John. She had become accustomed to his cutting remarks, and had braced herself for one, before she had realized it wouldn't, and couldn't, come. She walked over and squatted down beside Delbert.

“How do you feel, Dell?” she asked.

“I'll live, Peg, you worry too much,” he said smiling. She kissed him quickly, and then straightened up. “I'm going to help Beth with dinner then. If you need me say so, okay?” Delbert nodded his head and smiled once more to reassure her, and she turned and walked away.

Billy walked over, handed Delbert a cup of coffee, and then sat down next to him.

“You know much about Indiana?” Billy asked, once he sat down.

“Not a lot,” Delbert replied, “came through a few years back driving truck, what's on your mind, Billy?”

“Well, how big are the cities we have to pass through, for starters, and, I guess, what do you think our chances are of getting into Ohio in one piece?”

“Probably ought to stay away from the cities,” Delbert answered. “Even if it takes longer. I know a couple of ways around, cheat routes I used a couple of times when I knew I was too heavy for the scales. If we're careful, real careful, we should be able to do it, but I ain't about to drop my guard none at all,” he finished.

“Me either,” Billy said, “me either, not one bit.”

“How'd that gal of yours learn to shoot that way?” Delbert asked, “I never seen somebody react so fast in my life.”

Billy cleared his throat. “It's not like that, Dell. She's not my gal... Rough life,” Billy continued, “I imagine she'll tell you someday. I'm damn glad she can though...Looks like Peggy can handle herself pretty damn well too, Dell,” he finished.

“Oh yeah, John was about to find out how well, I think.” He continued with no further explanation. “I think she probably had a pretty damn rough life too, Billy,” he said. “It made her one fine woman though.”

They sat and sipped quietly at the hot coffee in silence for a few minutes before Billy spoke.

“Well, all we can do is try our best, Dell, just that, and nothing more... I think it's best we stay put for a while... Maybe a few days, a week or so... Let that leg heal up,” He locked eyes with Dell. He had already spoken about it to Beth, but they were four now, four voices, four votes.

“I think I don't have much choice.” Dell looked around. “We could do worse,” He looked back up at Billy.

Billy smiled. “What I was thinking too.” He smiled and outstretched his hand. “How about we go get some food, what do you say?”

“Smells damn good, don't it?” Delbert asked, as Billy helped him to his feet. They both walked off toward the small fire where the two women sat quietly talking.

New York: May 1
st

Billy and Beth: The Camp

They had gotten on the road just a few days later, as soon as Dell had healed enough to travel.

After everything they had gone through on their flight from L.A., the trip across the top of the country to the East coast had been uneventful. They had stuck to side roads, avoided the major cities. They had had their run ins with the dead more than once, and for the last hundred miles or so toward the end of the trip they had known they were being followed, but they had made the outskirts of New York unmolested.

The city rose before them, several miles off. Fires burned by night, black smoke hung above it during the day. New York was no refuge. It had seemed to be the end of everything after all they had been through, but a few days of rest and they had begun to see things for what they were. It was not a maybe any longer. Whatever had happened, had happened nationwide... Probably worldwide they had agreed.

Billy squatted now before one of the fires warming his hands. The horizon to the east glowed with occasional bright flares erupting. Sometime the sounds of explosions reached them out here as soft pops on the night air. A few times those pops had been much louder though and they had wondered what had blown that could be that big, but they had no answers and no desire to venture into the city by daylight to find out.

Billy rubbed some heat into his hands. The nights were getting warmer, summer was on the way and he couldn't help but feel they should be somewhere else by then, preparing for the coming winter that would surely follow this first new summer, but it was still cool.

The fire burned hot, but low, the heat feeling good as the temperature of the air dropped. The fires were many. A small group had been sitting, watching the stars come out, when one by one, nearly all the others had come to sit and watch with them.

There were well over a hundred people here now. They had driven out of the city in whatever they could find that would drive and was not boxed in or frozen in traffic. Taxi cabs, huge delivery trucks and a few city police cars littered the field they were camped in. The others had come in, some the same day, more as the days passed.

Out here, twenty five miles from anything, it sometimes seemed lonely, empty, but not as oppressive as the cities. Death did not seem as though it were only waiting for them. There were no dead, zombies, whatever they were, at least so far. Still, he was uneasy. He felt an itch to go. Maybe there were dead here, maybe they just weren't making themselves known yet... Waiting for the right opportunity. There was no protection here, and they needed a warmer climate too. The same reason they had headed south in the first place when they had left L.A., he told himself as he stared out into the darkness.

Within the first month, two dozen had joined them.

They had thirty shotguns, better than fifty rifles and dozens of handguns between them. They had banded together and journeyed into the surrounding suburbs, broken into gun shops and pawn shops to get them.

Jamie, Winston and the others had found them just a few weeks earlier. Scotty had not been with them. None of them wanted to talk about where he was or what had happened to split them up.

That had solved the mystery of feeling as though they were being followed. Billy and Beth had both wondered how long they might have been following them across the country. But nobody seemed to want to ask or answer those questions. Had they been the ones that had destroyed their truck? He found himself skating up to the edge of asking several times and then failing. It had seemed to be personal though. It bothered him that they may have been the ones who had done it.

He and Jamie had fallen back together even though he had done his best to discourage it. In truth, he thought now, looking out at the gathering gloom of early evening, he should have tried harder. He didn't love her. Couldn't imagine a life with her, and every day he spent with her made the trip from L.A. with Beth more and more unreal. A fairy tale that never happened.

He was weak. He had been weak back in L.A. And he was weak now. Jamie had sensed that Beth had said no, or something like no. That a trip halfway across the continent had not been able to change her resolve. Scotty was not with her, so she had picked things up where they had left off. Like it was the natural thing to do, Billy had thought. And who knew, maybe it was the natural thing to do now. Just pretend it didn't matter. Nothing had happened. He had met enough people who were doing that same thing and making it work, he supposed he could to. So he had fallen right back into it too: Said nothing as the relationship picked back up where it had left off.

Billy stood and watched night come down on the trees. The fires in the city seemed to suddenly burn hotter. Nothing moved anywhere. Jamie came and stood beside him for a moment before she slipped her arm around his waist and managed to capture his attention. He bent slightly and kissed her forehead.

“Wow. I can't believe you just did that. I'm already getting the forehead kiss,” She told him. She smiled up at him, teasing as she said the words.

“You know it's not like that.” He kissed her once more, this time fully on the lips, a longer kiss.

“That was better,” Jamie told him. She looked out over the emptiness. “What are you thinking?” She asked.

“I'm thinking we can't stay here forever... A few more days.” He looked down at her. “But we'll have to leave soon. We need to get south. Summer is coming down. It doesn't seem possible, but it is. It's warmer every day.” He turned to her. “We should be somewhere right now... Planting crops, getting food set for winter.” he turned back to the distant fires. “We can't stay too much longer.” He looked back at the clearing in the middle of the vehicles where the others sat and talked before the fires. There were dozens of kids. Three babies and their mothers.

He had hoped Beth would lead. She had seemed the logical choice, but she had not taken it directly. It was not a responsibility he was comfortable with. He guessed she must feel the same. Beth was there, in the background, listening, approving or disapproving silently, letting him know with her eyes what she thought, what she would or wouldn't approve of.

“That it?” Jamie asked from beside him.

He smiled and shook his head. “No. But who isn't thinking deep thoughts?” His smile faded a little. She answered it with a serious look of her own.

“Come, eat,” she said at last. She took his hand and pulled him away toward the others.

“I have to talk to Beth,” Billy told her. She let go of his hand immediately.

“Beth... It's always
Beth
, isn't it?” she asked.

“Jamie,” Billy started.

“But it is!”
Her eyes squirted tears, hot and fast. “Why?”

“Jamie... We crossed two thousand miles together.”

“I would have... I would have, Billy.”

“But you didn't... Why is that, Jamie? Why didn't you? And when did you find us and start to follow us, when? And what happened to Scotty?”

“I'm not talking about that, Billy. I'm just not,” Jamie told him. Her eyes were bloodshot and red rimed. She turned her back on him.

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Billy threw his hands up in frustration and then forced them to his sides.

She turned back to him, her jaw set in a rigid line. “I didn't mean that,” she said, obviously meaning she did mean it, but wished she hadn't said it. She turned her eyes away. “Go on. It's okay.” She turned back to him, “Come back later on?”

Like it never even happened, Billy told himself. The new world order. He gathered his temper and thoughts. “Just a few minutes, really. I only need to ask her about staying or leaving,” Billy told her.

“I'll wait eating... until you come.” She turned and walked away without another word. Billy sighed and then turned and walked off through the campground.

Quiet conversations passed back and forth between people as he walked, a few murmured greetings he acknowledged with a smile to hide his worries, but it seemed as though there were still too many other things on everyone’s minds, and the conversations began to die down after a short time.

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